Breaking the Law
by Karen Hikari
Summary: Maybe, who knew, maybe they could be something more and… And stupid Auradonian crap, Jay thought once more, for a change. But he was smiling, grinning almost, as he finally closed his eyes because maybe, just maybe, the Auradonian crap didn't feel that bad after all.
**Hello! As promised, I'm right back with more Descendants fanfiction! I know that I said I'd write something more like two months ago, but my life has been a disaster and I hadn't been able to publish anything. Seriously, this story has been finished for a week.**

 **Anyways, after watching Descendants (for the second time), I was in my full Jaylos fever, so one day I was washing the dishes and I had my phone playing some music when suddenly thi song starts playing and it was a total mind-blow. The name of the song I'm talking about is Breaking the Law, by Emile Sande, and it's one of the most beautiful songs I can think of (needless to say, I strongly recomend you to hear it).**

 **So, after that, I couldn't keep the tune off my head and the mental images just started to apperar until... this happened.**

 **I also want to thank a friend of mine (let's call him H because he has no account or whatsoever), because he really helped me a lot with the scenes in this story.**

 **Most of the scenes do not follow an actual order (I needed to go with the song, not with teh actual chronological order in which things happened), but at the biginning Carlos is like, ten and Jay is around twelve. I think that on the other scenes the time-line is made clear in the story istelf.**

 **With nothing left to say, I really hope you enjoy it! ;)**

* * *

 _ **Breaking the Law**_

* * *

—*—*—

 _When you need to smile,_

 _But you can't afford it._

 _Go on point it out,_

 _I'm gonna steal it._

—*—*—

If there was one thing Jay was used to, that was to disappoint his father. To let him down. To plainly and simply not be enough for the former sorcerer.

However, what he was not used to was to be scolded and humiliated for that in public and, especially, he was not and would never be used to be reprimanded for that while in front of Cruella's poor excuse for a son. Not that Cruella herself was a great personality either.

It primarily started because he hadn't stolen anything. Or, better put, he hadn't stolen anything that his father considered good enough. Trash. Scum. _Garbage_ , in Jafar's words.

But, of course, all that Jay was left to wonder was _what in the world did his father expect him to bring when all on the freaking island was garbage?_ The Isle of the Lost was, in itself, a giant, floating junkyard.

But then again, Jafar didn't care. And _of course_ that, _unless you filthy scum bring anything_ valuable _you're sleeping outside yourself_.

And that was the sorry state in which Carlos de Vil, son of Cruella de Vil had found him, right after his father's little outburst in the middle of the street.

"Are you… are you alright?" the younger boy asked with a shaky voice as soon as Jafar turned on his heels and walked away in the other direction, sending hateful glances to his sides.

"Perfectly" Jay replied bluntly.

"I… I might be able to help you" Carlos muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"You?" Jay inquired with a piercing gaze. "And why would _you_ do that?"

"I… I don't know, but…" Carlos started, failing to voice his thoughts because he really had no idea of what he was doing. "Come with me".

And so, with no further thoughts or explanations, Carlos took his right arm and started running, guiding Jay through the labyrinth of confused people and disregarded stores until they were standing in front of a huge building, giant gates and an imposing façade, same that would have been a little respect-worthy if not for the fact that it was falling to pieces. Hell Hall.

Without Jay even noticing, Carlos slipped through the gates and into the construction, leaving the son of Jafar so confused that he could only wait for the younger boy to get back. Which he, surprisingly, did, holding in his trembling hands a piece of fur of so high-quality that Jafar would have sold his eyes just to be able to see it once, let alone _possess_.

And then he did the unimaginable. Carlos offered it to _him_.

"What are you doing?" Jay asked in puzzlement.

"I don't know" Carlos replied, fidgeting, his eyes turned to cold floor. "I don't know, but take it before _she_ comes back".

Just then, Jay stopped caring about the _why_ 's too, because this was a one-in-a-million opportunity. And so he took the piece of clothing from Carlos' shaking hands and ran in the opposite direction of Hell Hall.

 _There's no team in I_ , he thought. _There's no team in I_.

But this time, this one and only time, not even he could —or wanted— to believe that.

Because maybe, just maybe, not everything left in the isle was trash after all. And this time —this one and only time— he wasn't talking about possessions, but about people.

—*—*—

 _When the floor is more familiar_

 _Than the ceiling_

 _I will come in late at night,_

 _Shake up how you're feeling_.

—*—*—

Jay wasn't one to repay favors. He hadn't asked for them so why should he repay or even mind them? All in all, that didn't matter, because, all in all, there were no favors in the Isle of the Lost.

Unless, of course, you ran by the name of Carlos de Vil, then you were just a lost cause.

And well, the only favor Jay ever felt in the need to repay also ran by a name that started with c.

It took the son of Jafar way longer than he'd like to admit to realize what Carlos had been risking for him that time when he had offered him one of his mother's precious furs. Perhaps it was also accurate to say that he'd only notice the _things_ after the incident plainly because he'd only started to pay attention to the younger boy after that day.

On the other side, and being fair, he now wondered how was it that he hadn't done so _before_ , how did anyone else notice.

And the answer was painfully obvious—he hadn't cared, not at all, just like no one cared right them. _There's no team in I_.

To be honest, there wasn't anything surprise-worthy in the fact that Cruella de Vil physically abused his son. No, there really wasn't.

This was the Isle of the Lost, after all. This was Auradon's massive, floating junkyard, where you could come and throw away whatever you didn't like at home like, for example, the worst, most dangerous villains of all times, insane harpies or crazy salesman who would also sell their sons if the offer was good enough just so that peace could be restored in the Fairy-Tale-Land, like it had happened thanks to Queen Belle and Prince Adam.

Long live the kings. Ha-ha, as if. Jerks.

However, not even Jay was aware of how utterly _insane_ Cruella was or of how far she was bound to go just to get rid of a moment's anger by unloading it on her own son.

Not until that day when he arrived to Hell Hall a little earlier than usual.

Now, that made it sound as if he went there daily or something. Which he didn't. Well, maybe, once every two days, but that was besides the point.

Ever since the stolen fur incident, Carlos and he had begun to… get along, for lack of a better word. They weren't friends, no, of course not —there weren't any _friends_ on the isle— but they were something akin to allies and that was something. Something _good_ , for a change.

All in all, they kept it simple—Jay needed someone to do his homework for him and Carlos needed someone to tell the punks who picked on him that _enough was enough_. It was a symbiotic relationship. Stay away from the nerd who does my work. It was villain like, wasn't it?

But no, it really was not all that villainous and horrible if he could feel his entrails turn at the sight in front of him, Jay thought as he entered Hell Hall through the kitchen door, having stopped calling for the doorbell a long time in the past.

And then he saw it. Or him, he wasn't sure Carlos was still _alive_.

He was laying on the floor, his face turned to the ceiling, his head a little tilted to the right, taking in ragged breaths that came out as muffled, dehydrated sobs. He was shaking, and his clothes were so torn apart that it was hard to tell whether if those were pieces of fabric that he had been wearing or plainly kitchen clothes that he had been holding.

But that wasn't the worse. Oh, no, far from that. He was _bleeding_.

 _Blood?_ , one might think. _Blood?_ Jay had seen plenty of that during his life. _Plenty_. At school, at the street while fighting, at his father's shop as a dissatisfied costumer entered. Plenty of blood, he basically lived on that—and while that sounded wrong and creepy—, it was still true. Close enough, anyways.

However, he hadn't seen nearly as much blood in one place. And never in his wildest dreams —and he did dream about blood— had he even thought that one sole person could _produce_ that amount of blood, let alone _lose_ it and _survive_.

"Oh, shit" Jay thought. 'Carlos is going to die'. But if he was crying then that at least meant that he was alive, right?

Surprisingly, that thought was the one that brought him back to his senses, forcing his numb muscles to move forward, to do _something_ , anything.

 _He can't die, he can't die_ , he mentally repeated to himself, over and over again, like the motto his father echoed to him till nuisance. Only that _hi_ s own precept was much stronger and heart-felt than Jafar's.

For once, Jay was thankful that he'd learned how to handle injuries and get rid of blood while street-fighting. For once also, Jay wasn't sure that he knew what to do, he thought as he kneeled down and took Carlos' shaking form in his arms.

—*—*—

 _I'll never stop_

 _Breaking the law for you._

 _I'll never stop_

 _Helping to pull you through._

 _Whatever it takes to get what you need_

 _Ignore the alarms, ignore the police._

 _I'll never stop…_

—*—*—

If there was one thing Carlos knew about the son of Jafar, that was how important stealing was for Jay. However, no matter how hard he tried, he also knew that he wouldn't be able to do was help the son of Jafar while at it.

No, no way. Stealing was Jay and Mal's thing, maybe even Evie's, if she tried hard enough and used her natural charm as a distraction like Jay did. But it was not _his_ thing.

Sure, he was fast, and agile too, but he was as well clumsy and jumpy and as if that wasn't enough already, he also dropped whatever he was holding when he got nervous and started fidgeting, which were not attributes that a real thief would be proud of having.

On the other side, that was no excuse for his mother, and neither was it for Mal, which could also be translated as this: he would have to go to the freaking Auradonian museum and help the others rob the Fairy Godmother's wand or he could count himself as dead. Great.

And that was why he did it, that was why he went with them to the museum and picked up the phone when the alarm went off. That was why he dared to go through the first notebook he saw and tried his best to find what the problem was and how to turn off the scandalous alarm, because he couldn't let them be caught, he couldn't —wouldn't— let Jay be caught, not if he could impede it.

And that was quite literally the first time Carlos de Vil ever told a lie.

—*—*—

 _When you're taking steps_

 _But you need to go faster._

 _We can speed through streets,_

 _So the shadows can't catch you_.

—*—*—

If Jay had learned something on the long, long years that he had been allies with Carlos —and thus known Cruella's ever changing demeanor— it was that when Cruella's voice jumped from barely-bearable to not-bearable-at-all, it meant that shit was coming.

True, that was not a hard lesson to learn, everyone at the isle knew it. It was simply that no one cared.

Ever after the last time he had found Carlos after one of Cruella's outbursts, Jay had insisted on accompanying him from Dragon Hall to the very entry of his house. Why? Good question, but Jay had no answer. Mainly, because it was a way to feel like he was doing _something_. Mainly because it was a way to let Carlos know that he wasn't alone, even when he could only support the younger boy from the door outwards.

And he was forced to leave Hell Hall behind with a tight jaw and clenched fists, knowing that whatever happened inside those terrifying gates was something he could not stop.

Which was exactly what happened that day, with the only exception that Carlos still hadn't crossed the door to Cruella's haunted house.

They were standing at the stairs, robbing a last few second to time and savoring each other's company for a few seconds more before parting when Cruella's hysteric cry came to break their longed calmness.

"You stupid piece of shit! Where are you?! Arriving late again!" she screamed, almost roared, sending a shiver down Carlos' spine that left the young boy shaking with fear and surprise.

"I—I have to get inside" he muttered raggedly, already turning towards the door.

Just as he gave the son of Jafar his back, Jay reached up for Carlos' right wrist in a reflex action.

"Don't do it" he said, almost ordered through his gritted teeth.

"Jay, please…" Carlos whispered, trying to jerk his arm free with no results.

"No, you can't go inside right now".

"It'll be worse if I don't do as she says, you know it" the boy admitted quietly, eyes turned to the floor.

"Listen to her, she's drunk" Jay insisted. "She won't remember this tomorrow. Please" he added, in hopes to convince the younger boy.

"Jay…"

"I won't leave you here. I won't leave you with her" Jay let out, tightening his hold around Carlos' wrist, but not in harsh way, not with the means to hurt him, just to… just to remind Carlos that he wasn't alone.

Unable to stand Jay's decided gaze, Carlos turned to the ground, fidgeting slightly, finally yielding because he knew, he _knew_ Jay was right. With Carlos still shaking, the son of Jafar circled the younger boy's shoulders and guided him away from Cruella's hysteric screams.

That was the first time Jay was able to stop the inevitable from happening to Carlos, and that was also the first time they slept in the same room, nevertheless that meant they simply had sneaked into Jafar's shop after he'd closed for the night and Carlos, too exhausted to care or even feel scared anymore had fallen asleep on Jay's shoulder, but Jay didn't care, not at all, because for once, _for once_ , he had done something. Something _right_.

—*—*—

 _When the corridors and all the steps_

 _Are making you tired._

 _I will come for you,_

 _Set the building on fire_.

—*—*—

One thing everyone born and raised on the Ilse of the Lost was upon arriving to Auradon was _amused_. The architecture, the clothes, the people, the _food_. And yet, that was not what Carlos seemed the more excited about, in Jay's very honest opinion, oh no, what the son of Cruella de Vil seemed to like more about the place was Auradon Prep's _library_. _The doors of wisdom are never shut, but the library hours were from eight to eleven_ , after all.

Which explained what Jay was doing directing himself to the library, where he was supposed to meet Carlos to study, although that also could be translated as Carlos trying to explain Physics and Jay applying his newly-learned knowledge about gravity by throwing the eraser in various directions while the librarian wasn't looking their way. It was well-inverted time, really.

Unfortunately, though, as soon as Jay stepped inside the place, what he saw wasn't Carlos adorably busy trying to hold as many books as he could in his arms, but Carlos asleep on top of one of his opened notebooks, still holding a pen between his fingers and murmuring nonsenses.

Sighing, Jay couldn't help but feel a grin climb to his lips. Seriously, though, when was the last time Carlos had gone to sleep early; and even when Jay knew it was a whole _different_ thing to stay awake because of Cruella's caprices and to stay awake studying, that didn't mean sleeping late was a healthy sleeping habit either.

But the son of Jafar really couldn't deny that Carlos looked somewhat… cute, with his eyebrows furrowed as if trying very hardly to remember something important. Not that it was villain like of him to think that, anyways.

Still smirking, Jay approached the table and started to gather Carlos' things to put them away in the boy's backpack. While he was at it, he couldn't help but notice the irony of him putting someone's possessions _inside_ a bag instead of taking them _out_. Not that he really could pick-pock Carlos, seriously, they shared a dorm, where would he hide the things he had stolen? And not that he'd been stealing anything lately either.

When he was finally done putting Carlos' things away he proceeded to take the younger boy into his strong arms, startling Carlos just a bit when he touched him.

"Dude…" Carlos muttered drowsily, hiding his face in the curve of Jay's neck, although the son of Jafar couldn't tell whether if he had recognized him and was talking to him or if he thought it was the dog the one disturbing his peaceful sleep. "Not now… very busy… studying…"

"Yeah, whatever you say" Jay nodded, snickering as he ignored the librarian when she told him to be quiet.

And that was how he carried a semi-unconscious Carlos back to their dorm and put him to bed while the son of Cruella continued to mutter senseless things like how positive he was that he had lost an electron and how white chocolate tasted better than the dark one but wasn't healthy. On the other side, Jay thought, chocolate was in no means healthy either way. Not that Jay minded Carlos', sleepy babbling and relaxed expression either.

—*—*—

 _I'll never stop_

 _Breaking the law for you._

 _I'll never stop_

 _Helping to pull you through._

 _Whatever it takes to get what you need._

 _Ignore the alarms, ignore the police._

 _I'll never stop…_

—*—*—

Something that all the children who had been taken out of the Isle of the Lost and into Auradon knew was that it was easy to get used to Auradon's ways, with its high towers and clean streets, with people's sincere smiles and kind words. It was easy to get used to the way people spoke and acted, to the food, to the buildings, even to the clothes and the brilliant colors.

But it wasn't easy to forget. It wasn't easy to stop turning over their shoulders in search of an enemy as they walked down those clean, planned streets. It wasn't easy to welcome those smiles and kind actions without internally asking if there were any ulterior motives for that ear-to-ear grin and cheerful laugh.

All in all, it wasn't easy to forget—to forget the smells, the sights, the regrets, the _pain_. It just wasn't easy to forget, and as the memories couldn't haunt them while the sun was up in the sky and shinning upon the pastel painted buildings, they came back at night, when their defenses were down and they were at their weakest and couldn't fight them away.

For Jay and Mal it was easy to brush it off and pretend it hadn't happened the next morning. They were strong, they were better, they were—them. On the other side, Evie was cheerful, shiny, beaming, and it was not like her to get stuck in something that hurt her when she knew nothing could be done on the matter. But Carlos… Carlos was just him and he couldn't fight himself then, just like he hadn't been able to fight Cruella back at the isle.

Now, there was also the question of what to do. They were not Auradonians, and they didn't know how to handle the situations as the people born and raised in the Fairy-Tale-Land did, and therefore it was easier to try to apply what they had learned back at the isle in their new home, even when that was nearly inapplicable.

One example of such a thing was the fact that meanwhile Auradonians would have rushed towards any crying person —whatever the reason for the tears was—, at the moment Jay was sitting in his bed, clenching his fists in defeat as he heard the muffled sobs that came from the bed next to his, where Carlos was supposed to be sleeping, although it seemed to the son of Jafar that he was violently turning and whimpering instead. Not that he could do anything about it, really.

He was a freaking villain, for King Adam's golden crown! He couldn't… he couldn't be feeling his guts tighten and this unsettling _worry_ arrive to his stomach just because someone was crying, right? He couldn't be _worried_.

But then again, this was Carlos de Vil, the boy who had risked an argument with his very-insane-and-out-of-her-mind-if-she-had-any mother for him, the boy who managed not to get robbed when he was near him and instead stole a smile from him, the boy who was senselessly cute and kind to him, to everyone, the boy who—who was crying less than a meter away from him while Jay ignored him as the heartless scum he was.

Finally deciding that he could take it no more, Jay stood from his own bed and proceeded to seat at Carlos', a few inches away from the boy's unconscious form before calling his name.

"Carlos" he said, but his throat seemed to dry and his voice sounded hollow even to himself. "Carlos" he repeated, this time raising a hand to the younger boy's shoulder hesitatingly.

The sudden and unexpected touch immediately startled the boy, sending his eyelids open with a grimace, which was ultimately what Jay had been trying to do, but… but sure as hell he hadn't planned what to do after waking Carlos up. Damn it, screw his lack of logic. Better yet, screw everyone, he thought as Carlos' wide, terrified eyes tried to focus on him.

"Carlos" he said once more, in the hopes that maybe if the boy knew it was _him_ , then he wouldn't be as scared, but it really didn't seem to matter to Cruella's son.

"I'm sorry" Carlos muttered with fear, pushing himself as far from Jay as he could until he hit the headboard of the bed and couldn't go any further. "I—I'm sorry if I woke you up".

 _Seriously, dude?_ , was all Jay could think. Carlos had woken up in this state and all that came to his mind was _that_? But then again, Jay couldn't really say that he was surprised of the boy's reaction, the son of Jafar dwelled on, rage bubbling up in his chest as he saw Carlos raise a hand to dry his eyes furiously, his back still shaking under violent sobs.

Refraining a sigh, Jay tried to reach up for Carlos once more until he was able to touch the boy's right shoulder and give it a tiny squeeze that immediately sent Carlos wincing, although he didn't try to jerk away. Jay had in fact saved his life more than once, _surely_ he couldn't be meaning to hurt him, right?

"If you're gonna keep on waking me up then I propose tomorrow we pull the beds together" he said, offering the son of Cruella a beaming grin that forced a tiny smile into Carlos' lips and eased a little in the tension in the boy's shoulders.

Taking that as a positive sign, Jay finally dared circle Carlos' shoulders and bring him to his chest, somehow managing to also end up at the other side of the mattress in the process, just so he could support his back on the bed's headboard while Carlos laid his head on Jay's right shoulder, breathing more evenly as he took in the son of Jafar's well-known scent.

"Thank you" Carlos whispered, so softly it seemed only a sigh.

"Whenever you need it" the son of Jafar retorted naturally, sincerely. And only when the words left his mouth did he realize he meant them.

They stayed in silence for some minutes until Carlos finally seemed to catch his breath and stopped shaking. Finally, Jay couldn't resist the urge to start drumming his fingers on Carlos' back and scalp, cursing for the millionth time in the day the catching Auradonian tunes.

"And you are doing?" Carlos asked in confusion, once the son of Jafar started to whistle.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm wheezing" Jay replied; upon noticing Carlos' inquisitive gaze —who by the way had been too lazy to actually look up from Jay's chest and was simply raising his eyes to meet Jay's— he sighed. "Jane kept singing it in Science and now I can't get it off my head" he admitted quietly.

"Bet you don't even now the lyrics" Carlos decided, sending Jay a mischievous smirk.

"Bet I don't even know the title" the son of Jafar accepted matter-of-factly as he tightened his hold around Carlos, who rolled his eyes in anything but amusement, though the fond, comfortable smile in his lips still managed to give him away.

After that, they fell into a nice, well-known silence, in which they just stared into each other's orbs until Carlos finally decided to forget about Jay's poor music skills and wished the thought away by shaking his head before nudging it into the crook of Jay's neck, letting sleep take over him, this time trusting the son of Jafar's safe arms.

In less than two minutes, the soft, paused sound of Carlos' breathing let Jay know that he wasn't conscious anymore. It was so strange, Jay thought, how Carlos would do that when he was next to him but spent more than forty minutes tossing and turning on the bed before finally sleeping when he was alone. It was a fact, a statement—he trusted him. And that was strange, unexpected, unplanned.

And yet—yet he couldn't say that he didn't understand it. It was logical too, unexpected as it was, because he in fact had seen Carlos at his worst, just like the son of Cruella had seen him at his, and it was that very same knowledge what made them feel so at ease around each other. He cursed once more—stupid Auradonian crap that was rubbing off on him.

Had someone asked him aloud, he'd have denied, but at two in the morning and alone with his thoughts, he couldn't delay the inevitable anymore and so he decided to actually dwell on what he had been avoiding for so long—when he was with Carlos, things were easier, simpler, more realizable.

One example could be that very moment—while Carlos could be having nightmares every now and then about his time with Cruella and who knew what Evie and Mal had, what Jay couldn't seem to brush off was his little habit of unconsciously searching for an exit, for an easy way out just in case he had to flee from the place. Pick-pocking wasn't as hard to break as the simple, irrational fear to get caught, even when he wasn't actually _doing_ anything wrong.

But with Carlos… it just wasn't like that, because if he was holding Carlos, then he wouldn't have risked it with something insanely dangerous, like jumping out of a window or into a building on fire.

He surely would have done it _for_ him, but not _with_ him, because, to put it simply, he wasn't going to put Carlos in danger, he wasn't going to let _anyone_ put that boy in danger. End of the story. Period.

And maybe, just maybe, if that was how Carlos felt too when he was with him and if that explained why he didn't mind it when he not-so-casually drew his arms around the younger boy's shoulders or plainly touched him then maybe… maybe, who knew, they could be something more and… And stupid Auradonian crap, Jay thought once more, for a change. But he was smiling, grinning almost, as he finally closed his eyes because maybe, just maybe, the Auradonian crap didn't feel that bad after all.

—*—*—

 _I'll never stop_

 _Breaking the law for you_

 _I'll never stop_

 _Helping to pull you through._

 _Whatever it takes to get what you need,_

 _Ignore the alarms, ignore the police…_

 _I'll never stop…_

 _I'll never stop…_

—*—*—

* * *

 **So, this is it. How did that go? I think there were parts in which it really reached dark moemnts but, let's face it, it's the Isle of the Lost we're talking about, for crying out loud!**

 **On the other hand, I think I'm dangeroulsy going back toHurt/COmfort. Again. Damn. Why does this always happens to me?**

 **Anyways, please let me know what you think about this story and if you want me to write about them again soon!**


End file.
